Professor Lupin's Apprentice

XIV: Pot Meets Kettle

After our first clandestine meeting in the Shrieking Shack, the children began inviting me to have tea with them regularly in the Gryffindor common room. I suppose I was allowed before, since I was also a Gryffindor, but I didn't completely feel I had the right, since I didn't live in the Tower. We talked a great deal about the practical aspects of living with a werewolf, although I made certain they understood I wanted to keep my attempts of producing the Wolfsbane Potion secret from Remus and our relationship hidden from Professor Snape. Ron and Harry seemed to grow quite fond of me; Hermione, on the other hand, grew less friendly with each passing tea.

"I think Hermione doesn't like me very much," I mentioned one evening whilst Remus was helping me with some of my homework. Defence Against the Dark Arts was my worst subject by far, but thankfully my fiancé was a tremendous help.

"What makes you think that?" he asked.

"She's distant at best and often curt with me for no reason at worst."

"Perhaps she envies your high marks in Potions. I know I do. You seem to be the only Gryffindor Snape has ever even tolerated."

"No, I don't think that's it," I said distractedly. When I glanced at him, he was wearing the look of his that said there was something he wasn't telling me. "Remus?" My tone reminded him we'd promised to have no more secrets now that we were engaged—even though I was brazenly violating this myself—and he smiled.

"Well, I've always thought Hermione had a bit of a crush on me. I assume that was why she put so much effort into finding out about my mysterious illness. But..."

"But what?" I prompted.

Remus sighed quietly. "I'm surprised she'd continue to harbour such feelings after she'd learnt the truth, or that she covered up for me afterward."

I shrugged. "She's Muggle-born too, isn't she? Like Dumbledore said, we don't have the same prejudices purebloods have."

He frowned. "Don't say that."

"What?" I asked.

"Purebloods."

"Why? Is it bad?"

"Not in and of itself, I suppose," he answered with a shrug. "But that's how the whole Voldemort thing got started—the purebloods against the Mudbloods."

Now I frowned. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know."

"The ironic thing is, there were rumours that Voldemort himself was of mixed parentage."

"Sounds like Hitler," I said sadly.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

By now I was used to Remus' not knowing about Muggle history, so I explained without a second thought. "Hitler was a dictator who came to power in Germany in the late 1920s, I believe. He began to extol racial purity, saying the ideal German would be a blond-haired, blue-eyed German, and he proceeded to remove the 'inferior' groups of people from Germany in order to build his master Aryan race. But Hitler himself was brown-haired and brown-eyed, and he wasn't even a German. He was Austrian."

"He does sound like Voldemort, then."

Remus frowned, staring down at the book in his lap. I could tell he was thinking about James, Lily and Sirius now, so I attempted to lighten his mood.

"I can't say I blame Hermione, though," I said, brushing his hair back from his forehead and planting a light kiss. "You are simply too dashing to ignore."

He smiled and hugged me. "Thanks. I needed that."

"Anytime, Moony. Do you think Hermione will ever warm up to me?"

"I'm sure she will. You trouble yourself too much over little things, Wart."

My eyes widened. "What did you call me?"

He smiled again, this time mischievously. "I called you 'Wart.' I'm trying out a new nickname. Do you like it?"

I shook my head. "Not particularly. Why 'Wart'? Because all witches are supposed to have warts?"

"No, 'Wart' as in 'worrywart.' I think it suits you."

I smiled. "Oh. In that case, I'll try not to be too offended."

Our picnic the previous May confirmed Remus' confidence in my concentration ability was well founded. Because of this, my Charms class was a cinch—now I had a wand that would work for me. Remus started teaching me some more complex charms, such as Summoning, and this I found very useful, especially when we couldn't find the remote for the telly. A simple "Accio remote control," and the remote flew to me from wherever it was. Unfortunately, summoning was too messy for bringing the tea tray, and I learnt this lesson the hard way. Remus then taught me how to clean up the spills, and I was happy again, although I still had to remake the tea. Since he'd shown me how to conjure boiling water, however, that was no longer a hardship either.

In the meantime, my private Potions tutoring with Professor Snape went very well. When I showed up for the first Thursday afternoon session, I found him with a special cauldron set up in his office. I felt I was fully prepared, having read everything the restricted section contained on the Wolfsbane Potion. Snape wasted no time asking me what the ingredients were, and I rattled off a list without consulting my notes. A small smile showed he was impressed.

"At first, you will merely watch me," he said, unlocking a cupboard and removing the components, "since I already have to prepare this for someone else. I happen to know a werewolf in the area."

"You do?" I asked, trying to sound innocently surprised.

"Indeed. A ... former ... staff member."

He said the "former" with so much exultation I suddenly wanted to slap him, since I know he had done his best to get Remus dismissed. This Thursday—in addition to being Remus' birthday—was a week before the full moon, so I already knew he would be taking this very potion starting tonight. I tried to keep my expression sufficiently blank, but when Snape turned around, he regarded me curiously. One eyebrow went up. I hoped I hadn't inadvertently let something slip.

"You can't see from back there," he said, with a sneering grin. "Come a little closer. I assure you I won't bite."

Laughing at my silliness, I shook my head and set down my satchel before I approached the cauldron. I had been hanging suspiciously back at the office door, I suppose—not because I was afraid of Professor Snape, but because I imagined personal hygiene wasn't his long suit. He didn't smell anywhere near as badly as it appeared he would. From that greasy mane of his, I expected he hadn't had a bath in weeks, but his scent was more antiseptic than repulsive. In fact, it reminded of most of the chemistry masters I'd known. I suddenly wondered if he'd put a special oil on his hair on purpose. It could serve as some natural protection against noxious potion fumes, to keep him from passing out, or even to prevent his hair from falling out. I made a mental note to look this up later.

I watched carefully as Snape minced some fresh wolfsbane petals. He then told me stir the mixture whilst he added many other ingredients until the potion was smoking.

"When the cauldron smokes, you can be fairly certain you've got it right," he said with an almost genuine smile. He then began to ladle some of the potion into a goblet. "Would you care to stay and meet our test subject?"

"Thank you, no, Professor. I have some heavy Transfiguration homework tonight."

"I suppose you'll meet him soon enough."

From his expression, he didn't appear to suspect I knew the subject already. He nodded, dismissing me, so I retrieved my bag and left. Not surprisingly, Remus wasn't home when I arrived, although he Apparated in a few minutes later, after I'd finished changing into a less fetid set of robes in the bedroom.

"Just seen Snape?" I asked as he walked over to kiss me.

Remus nodded then stopped, apparently remembering his breath was probably awful. He turned to go brush his teeth, but I snagged his arm.

"I might as well get used to it," I said, pulling him to me and kissing him.

Almost immediately, I pushed him away, wiping my mouth. His kiss tasted like mud flavoured with sweaty socks and stinkbugs, and with just a hint of liquorice. Unfortunately, I can't stand the taste of liquorice any more than mud, sweaty socks, or stinkbugs.

"I warned you," he said, now going to the loo.

Luckily his nose was too full of the potion already to notice the smell lingered in my hair as well as the robes I'd wrapped in plastic and hidden in the bottom of the closet. Whilst he was in the loo, I grabbed a box with two new sets of robes I'd bought in Diagon Alley as a surprise for his birthday. I then laid these out on the bed and joined him.

"You must really hate being a werewolf to drink that stuff," I said, leaning over him as he rinsed his mouth, kissing his shoulder.

He looked up and smiled at me in the mirror. Then he stood upright and turned in one motion, drawing me to him as he leant against the sink.

"Now, where were we?"

He kissed me—slowly and deeply, and for a gloriously long time.

"Much better," I said. "You'd best change for dinner." I took his hand and led him back into the bedroom.

"Are we dining downstairs tonight?" he asked. He then saw the robes. "Melinda, you shouldn't have!"

I shrugged. "Why not? It is your birthday, after all."

He smiled, shaking his head. "I haven't got such a nice birthday present in ... well, I don't remember how long. But you really shouldn't have."

"Do you like them?"

"I love them."

"Then I should have. I told Ron, Harry and Hermione we'd meet them in Hogsmeade for dinner at seven, so you need to hurry. Don't worry," I said, raising a hand as I took in his anxious expression. "I cleared it with the headmaster."

He smiled. "Do you know how much I love you?"

"I think I have a pretty good idea," I said, smiling and nodding.

Dumbledore had seen to having my sitting room fireplace added to the Wizarding network to expedite my travel to and from school. Once Remus had changed (he let me choose which one of his new robes he would wear), a little Floo powder later we were sitting at a table inside The Three Broomsticks, waiting for the children to arrive. They stepped from the fireplace shortly, accompanied by Professor McGonagall. I wondered if she was planning to chaperone during our meal until she smiled and waved, mouthing "Happy Birthday, Remus," before going back inside the fireplace.

"She saw us together. What are we going to do?" I asked in a whisper, concerned, as Harry, Ron and Hermione started toward our table.

"We can trust her," Remus replied, also whispering. "She won't tell Snape. Don't worry, Wart."

I smiled as he touched my nose playfully. Suddenly I understood why he'd picked that particular nickname. Harry, Ron and Hermione all sat, pulling packages from their robes. They giggled whilst Remus unwrapped the presents. He looked puzzled with the first, frowned with the second, and positively scowled by the third. They'd got him a collar, a lead, and flea shampoo.

"Very funny," he said, folding his arms over his chest.

"I thought 'thank you' was the traditional answer," I said.

And, on cue, the children all said, "You're welcome, Moony!" in unison.

"Don't blame them," I said, ruffling, then smoothing, his hair. "The gag gifts were my idea, but they also chipped in on that new set of robes you're wearing."

He smiled then, and we ordered our dinner. I watched Hermione carefully during the evening, and I was convinced Remus was correct about her crush. But I hoped she'd learn to like me when she realised I made him happy. At half past ten, Professor McGonagall returned to collect the children. Remus hugged them all in turn, thanking them for the best birthday he could remember in a long time. After that, we went home.

The next Thursday afternoon, which was the day of full moon, Professor Snape again demonstrated preparing the Wolfsbane Potion. And again, when he asked if I wanted to meet the subject, I declined the offer with the excuse of homework. But this time, he would not be dissuaded.

"I insist you see why this potion is necessary," he said firmly.

I felt myself going pale. Had Malfoy told him about seeing me with Remus? Was this his cowardly way of confronting me with the knowledge? Or was he so sadistic he merely enjoyed watching me squirm?

"I've already seen ... my nephew's transformation," I replied, barely audibly.

"It's more gruesome in an adult. I think you should know what you are dealing with. If you manage to prepare this potion successfully, you will have to deal with these monsters on a regular basis. They will seek you out. There is no way to avoid them."

I flinched when he said "monsters," and again I wanted to slap him. Remus was no monster, but Snape would never see it that way.

"Will you meet me back here at seven?" He asked this in a calm, quiet voice, but I knew it was no request. Then he dismissed me.

I immediately went home to warn Remus, but he wasn't home. I searched everywhere, asking everyone at the boarding house, but no one had seen him for hours. So I waited, but he didn't come home. When I ran out of time, I went back to the dungeon to meet Professor Snape. He waited with a smoking goblet in his hand, and I followed him out of the dungeon, through the entrance hall, down the steps, and out of the castle toward the Whomping Willow. I remembered to act surprised when he prodded the knot at the base with a stick.

"Where does this go?" I asked as he led me into the passage and down the slope.

"The Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade."

We entered the shack and climbed the stairs. My legs were trembling. I didn't want Remus to find out this way.

"Will you hurry along?" Snape snapped, his robes billowing in his wake.

I tried to walk faster, but my legs didn't want to co-operate. When we entered the room at the top of the stairs, Remus waited there, sitting on the bed. He looked at Snape, past him toward me, and then back to Snape. Anger flared in his eyes.

"I see you know each other," Snape said, with a satisfied air.

Malfoy had told him, the little rat! Strangely, Snape never turned back to look at me. Remus said nothing. I knew he wouldn't want to give Snape that satisfaction. He took the goblet and downed the potion in one gulp in his anger. He then handed the empty goblet back to Snape and flopped on the bed.

"No doubt the two of you have much to discuss," Snape said smoothly, finally turning to look at me. I was understandably distressed at Remus' anger, so I'm sure Snape suspected nothing.

"Remus, I can explain," I said, starting toward him after I heard the downstairs door close.

"I don't want to hear it."

"Remus, please!" I begged him with my eyes.

"No more secrets, remember? You made me promise, but I suppose you're above that, aren't you?"

"Remus—"

"Get out of my sight!" he growled, sitting up.

"Will you please hear me out?"

"Will—you—please—leave?!?" he shouted. "And you can consider our engagement off!"

"I thought we were mated for life—"

"We may be bonded, but that doesn't mean I have to marry you! It doesn't even mean I have to look at you if I don't want to! And I certainly don't want to at the moment!"

My jaw dropped. I couldn't believe he'd just said that. His expression was implacable, angrier than I'd ever seen him. I sadly tossed some Floo powder in the flames and went home. That night, Remus didn't come home at all, even after the moon went down. I know because I waited up until six to see if he would. There was no moon by then, but there was also no Remus. I imagined he'd stayed in the Shrieking Shack all night.

I fell into bed and cried myself to sleep. When I woke, it was nearly noon. I decided missing one day of classes wasn't going to kill me. After all, I was an adult, and my Professors would most likely take me at my word if I said I was ill. I was heading to the kitchen to make some tea when I saw Remus sitting, pale and still looking angry, on the sofa.

"I'm sorry, Moony," I said weakly.

He started in again immediately. "After all the times you've lectured me for being dishonest or even evasive—"

"I was trying to protect you from disappointment in case I couldn't prepare the potion."

"Mr Kettle," he said bitterly, pointing to himself, then added, pointing at me, "meet Miss Pot." Remus then put a hand to his ear and said, "What? What's that you say? I'm black?" He glared at me, folding his arms over his chest.

"I didn't want you to have false hopes."

His face softened then, and he rose to embrace me. "Oh, Melinda." He kissed my brow. "I'm sorry, too. Your heart was in the right place, after all. And I overreacted. I'll admit I was jealous knowing you were spending time with Snape."

"You don't honestly believe you'd ever lose me to ... that ... do you?"

He sighed, caressing my arms. "No, I suppose not."

"What was he trying to accomplish, do you think?"

"To hurt me, that's all. He'd mentioned he was having a student help him prepare Wolfsbane Potion. I should have known it was you."

Snape's reaction—not looking at me—suddenly came back to me. "He was trying to hurt you, but I don't think in the way you suspect."

"What do you mean?"

"He wasn't trying to make you jealous by knowing we were spending time together. The headmaster and I told him my nephew ... Moony, he thought I didn't know you were a werewolf!"

Remus eyes widened and then he smiled. "So now we just have to pretend we've broken up until you've mastered the potion."

"Do you really think he'd be petty enough to stop teaching me just because—?"

"Yes, I think he would. I believe he enjoys having power over me. Your mastering the potion would rob him of that power."